


she's my collar

by medlli



Series: keen ice [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon Compliant, Clubbing, Dancing, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, Slow Dancing, Spoilers, also idak if I wrote spoilers but JUST in case, envy - Freeform, just good ol' fashion emotions, no alcoholic influence this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medlli/pseuds/medlli
Summary: We made a green meadow whenever we wouldcollide.





	she's my collar

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to another installment of Rarepair Hell!
> 
> I'm your host Kim and today we've got a special one-shot of Futaba/Yusuke today!
> 
> please enjoy the show!
> 
> {btw this story ties back to [out of body](http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/11008743)  
> this is a sister series with [thunderous flamenco](http://archiveofourown.org/series/734184%22)}

 

> ( _I'm still coming back to you_ )

 

_“You know,” Yusuke mutters as he falls into thought, pointer finger and thumb framing his chin, “Ryuji and Ann were on the floor together for quite some time… and Ann was quite enthusiastic with the way she was dancing against him… is there perhaps something going on between them?”_

_Futaba nearly chokes on her drink, patting her chest as she coughs out the sharp burn that had trickled down the wrong pipe. “Are you… kidding… me? All that… stuff you said at… Leblanc and… you don’t even—I can’t… believe you!” She coughs a bit of a storm before clearing her throat, voice now coming out in a gentle rasp. “I guess those two aren’t the only ones who never caught on… God, Inari, you wouldn’t notice someone pining if it hit you in the face.”_

_“Why do you sound almost… disappointed?”_

_“That’s none of your business.”_

_She hopes the two that had left find far more success than she apparently ever will._

 

* * *

 

About half an hour after Ryuji and Ann leave, Makoto slid into Futaba’s peripheral vision. “So,” she said in _that_ tone, implying she might have used **Mom Ears** to hear more than she was meant to, “aaaare you two planning on leaving this bar at all tonight? Don’t you think it would be good to dance a little? Like Akira said, it’s good exposure…”

Futaba made a face before tossing back a shot of Patron, her scowl growing deeper as she coughed. “Isn’t it good enough that I’m here at all? Anyway, I don’t know why you included _him_ when he’s really just here to ‘observe’ for his next ‘inspiration—’”

“’Exposure…,’” he muttered vaguely, falling into his signature **Thinking Pose** , unseeing eyes glued to the floor.

Both girls looked at him in question for a moment, the brunette in curiosity and the redhead in confusion. Snorting, the latter added with her **Hint of Sarcasm** , “What, don’t tell me you’re actually considering going out there. Oh wait, I know! Maybe if you joined the Horde out there, the idea for your next piece will—”

“ _That’s it_!”

“—hit you…”

Oblivious to her mocking tone, Yusuke leapt off the barstool, eager to merge into the crowd before him.

She watched his disappearance with a tad bit of irritation prodding at her thoughts, exhaling a huff at the hope of him asking her to tag along being crushed instantly. To clear it, she shook her head vigorously, reminding herself of the conversation that took place just half an hour ago; it was clear that the man would never catch on, no matter what she did. ‘ _You’re not here anymore, but have my **Well Wishes** buff anyway._ ’ “Godspeed, Inari.”

“You don’t think we can just _leave_ him to his own devices, do you?”

‘ _Oh no. Not **Mom Voice**. Please don’t say what I think_ —’

“You’re not gonna go after him?”

“For _what_? If you’re so worried about him, _you_ should go.”

“Well, you’re much better at corralling him than I am, you know? It would help to have you around in case he gets a little too… eccentric. I can only do so much…”

‘ ** _Mom Voice_** _inflicts twenty points of Guilt damage!_ ’

Futaba let out a groan, knowing there was no way out of these things when it came to Makoto… not that she wasn’t going to try anyway. ‘ ** _Pet Excuse_** _buff, go!_ ’

“But what about Morgana? We can’t just leave him alone—”

She swore profusely under her breath when a worn-out Akira and Haru draped their backs against the counter. “He won’t be alone. See? Akira and Haru probably won’t be going anywhere for a while,” Makoto chirped, getting to her feet and taking hold of the redhead’s hand in her **Vice Grip**. “You know, the longer you stall, the more time he has to get us all kicked out…”

‘ _A two-hit KO…_ ’

“Fine, fine! I’ll go.” And if she was true to herself, she would have admitted this was a wonderful opportunity for an excuse to join him out on the floor. ‘ _I’m only doing this because I’m being forced,_ ’ she told herself instead. With a huff, she finally stood, yanking her hand away to adjust her glasses and brush off her dress before letting herself get dragged away. ‘ _At least Battle Mom automatically fills the necessary Companion slot instead of making this a forced solo quest…_ ’

“… I take that back.”

As soon as Yusuke came into view, Futaba “mysteriously” lost her grip on Makoto’s hand; a glance back showed that perhaps it was not intentional at all, as the arm of the other woman still reached for her until both were pushed too far for either to grab onto the other. The two were left to fend for themselves, the crowd pushing the former towards the artist. She had to remind herself to breath evenly, coming into rough contact with him just as she was ready to panic.

“Ah, Futaba! I didn’t expect to see you out here… are you alright? You seem a bit pale…”

‘ _Yes! An area-of-effect heal! Thank goodness… wait._ ’ She quickly batted off the hands that rose to examine her face, moving as far back from him as she could in their current cramped space. “I-I’m…,” she cleared her throat to wipe her **Shy Stammer** debuff, “I’m fine. I just got a little lost. Luckily, you’re a good landmark.”

“Thank you, I suppose?” His look was questioning—furrowed brow and tilted head—but he let the matter go nonetheless. “Anyhow, are you here to join the ‘Horde,’ as you put it? I wouldn’t have expected that Makoto could manage to pry you away from that bar.”

“It’s not like leaving you alone was the better option,” she grumbled, shrugging  to appease Yusuke when he hummed in question. “I thought I might want to at least see what all the fuss was about,” she lied. With her _Stamina_ nearly depleted, she added, “And I think I’ve seen enough. I’ll be over there by the wall if you need me. You’ve gotta use the Buddy System in places like these, you know. It’s dangerous to go alone.”

“Hm, I suppose you’re right. It seems quite easy to lose each other here, especially someone of your stature; your shoes make it a bit easier, however. I will be sure to keep an eye on you as well.”

‘ ** _Oblivious Insult_** _hits for ten Self-Esteem damage!_ ’

The only reaction her **Hardy Stare** received was another head tilt, the man clearly immune to its status effects. Scoffing and shaking her head in disbelief, she decided now was as good a time as any for a tactical retreat, her hit points dangerously close to zero. Once she assimilated to her true role as a wallflower, she stood with her arms closed in on herself, trying to recover from the overstimulation that was the club. ‘ _I shouldn’t have left my headphones…_ ’

What felt like hours had only been twelve minutes in reality, each second adding to the drain of Futaba’s **Socialization** weakness. She had closed her eyes and covered her ears five minutes in, consciously practicing breathing exercises to keep calm, but the small buff it gave her was not strong enough to last that long. She reopened her eyes at sixteen minutes, the panic starting to set in. “Where’s Inari? I can’t—”

Just as she peeled herself away from the wall, her eyes fell upon his lanky frame, watching as a pair of girls casually sauntered over and began to grind against him, trapping him between their two voluptuous forms. At the sight, she felt two emotions bubble up from the pit of her stomach, though only one was known to her.

 **Anger** was one hell of a buff to subdue her **Anxiety**. The other, however, kept her feet rooted in place, though it clashed with the fierce desire to march over there and take him away that burned in her heart.

A touch on her shoulder pulled her away. She couldn’t see Yusuke heading her way after noticing her discomfort, struggling to avoid the girls. The turn of her head kept her ignorant to how he was swift to scold the girls, explaining he was in the midst of finding his friend.

“Hello, Little Miss Wallflower. Are you lonely over here?” The boy who approached her wore quite the charming grin, but her **Analyst** ability could see that it was merely a ruse. After all, what other motive would there be for a boy at a club to approach her, much less any boy at all?

“N-No.” She winced at her stammer, cursing her **Anxiety** and **Socialization** weaknesses for their lasting field effect. “I’m j-just, ah… searching for a friend. He might b-be looking for me too…”

“Aw, how about it?  Just one dance with me. I’m sure he won’t mind if he’s _just_ your friend, right?”

At the insistent tug she felt at her shoulder, she ripped her body away from the stranger, holding her arm. “I said ‘no!’” She shouted, whipping her head back toward the dancefloor; her creeping **Nervous Meltdown** brushing off the stares of those surrounding her. In any other instance, she would have had the gall to sink further into herself, but all she did was lock onto slate eyes masked by raven hair, only briefly noting the way they expressed surprise at her actions.

Though small, her _Strength_ stat was nothing to sneeze at when her **Nervous Meltdown** spell was near activation. Suddenly, parting the crowd was not the issue at all as she slammed into Yusuke, the artist grunting at the force of impact against his stomach. “F-Futaba, are you—?”

Her arms were tight around his waist, face buried in the fabric of his vest. he began to stroke the top of her head tenderly, probably because he felt the way she shivered against him.

Though it was mere seconds before the moment was ruined.

“Who the hell is this shrimp?” one shrill voice sneered, having backed away when Futaba ran into him.

“Don’t tell me _this_ clingy little thing is your date,” the other added, a **Cackle of Mockery** following. “You can clearly do better.”

Despite her trembling body and racing heart, her Ultimate still came through from the irritation she felt with the girls still trying steal her only present source of comfort. ‘ _...Oh. Oh goodness, okay, am I… am I really gonna do this? I’m already freaking out I don’t know if this is a good idea what if he’s repulsed by me how is this this gonna—no. If there was ever a time to use **Daring Action** , it’d… it’d probably be now... I’ll worry about the repercussions later... Well, here it goes!_’

Her arms switched places, moving from around his waist to around his neck, pulling him down to her level as she tiptoed up to meet him. With no preemptive warning to her victim, she kissed him, eyes squeezed tight and unseeing to the way his widened in shock.

Though she heard the retreating noises of disgust, she maintained the kiss for a few seconds longer until she figured he had suffered long enough. ‘ _Though… I think he… did he start to… No. There’s no way. It must be the **Delusion** recoil from the ult._ ’ Rather than acknowledge her actions, she kept her arms in place and began to sway with him slightly off-beat to the music.

“Wh—what—”

“N-Not yet. They’re probably… probably still… watching…,” she managed to squeak out, hoping that he heard her and took a hint for once in his life. Thankfully, he figured out how to follow her lead; one part of her felt relief at this, though the other made fire boil her blood at the way his hands settled on her hips.

Though the bass reverberated all around them, the spell of **Awkward Silence** afflicted the pair for five minutes, the taller of the two finally speaking up first. “I observed what occurred over by the wall. I would have come sooner, but those two obstructed my path to request a dance with me… and I was unable to gauge whether I should have intervened.” Futaba merely nodded, keeping her eyes to the ground so he couldn’t see the red that had conquered her face.

“I-It’s fine. I saw those t-two approach you but I f-figured you wanted that, since… you know. Your whole a-art thing…” ‘ _Damn this debuff, leaving me stammering at a time like this!_ ’

“While I appreciate the experience, I would have preferred that encounter have gone differently… I expressed no consent from the start, even prior to them dancing on me.”

‘ _So he didn’t… why did I ever think he even_ wanted _that?_ ’ A whispering voice was quick with a reply to that thought, but she was just as quick to smother it, refusing to acknowledge the other emotion she felt when she first watched the scene unfold.

“Regardless, back to the matter of your discomfort… did you wish to return to the bar?” Yusuke asked.

She thought for a moment, but conclusively shook her head no. The result of her Ultimate was a surge of courage, but at the cost of her previous recoil and a depletion of any hit points she had left. With none to spare, she needed some time to recharge before returning to the rest of the group. Though, rather than explaining that, she said, “Nah. You, ah… you still need some experience with… what it’s like to dance with a crowd at a club, right? I’ll… I can try to stick it out… until you’ve also had enough.”

She felt Yusuke nod with acknowledgement above her, able to sense his sharp **Artist’s Stare** focused on her and only her. In another circumstance, perhaps she would have chastised him, but currently, she just wanted to hide… However, doing so in this current situation would only add to the **Anxiety** crippling her as well.

‘ _Ugh, forget it! I’ll take my chances._ ’ Taking the second option, she brought her arms back down to his waist, burying her face in his chest as they swayed. She felt the firm muscles tense against her momentarily before he vibrated with a soft chuckle.

“I am… not particularly well-versed in how to comfort others, but… I suppose this would be the best course of action?” One of his hands lifted from her hips, rubbing smooth skin against her back; with the first few cycles, she felt his hesitancy towards touching her, but the pressure solidified when there was no typical **Explicit Enmity** expressed.

She was not sure what songs played or how long they were out on the floor for, but she knew that they were too slow and too long respectively when she heard a familiar voice.

“O-Oh! Am I interrupting something? I just thought I should check in and give you two a warning…”

With no hesitation, Futaba shoved Yusuke away, fumbling to look as unfazed as possible, as if Makoto did not just see them slow-dancing and pressed close. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, knowing there was nothing to be done about her brightly blushing face as she turned around.

She prayed the dark of the club would conceal it.

“Oh, it’s the Battle Mom that abandoned me,” she snipped, losing the short-lived wind in her sails when she caught the other’s flinch. “It’s… it’s fine. I know it wasn’t on purpose. The club’s crowded place; happens all the time, I’m sure.” Shaking her head, she motioned with one hand for Makoto to go on, her other hand clutching tightly at the hem on the skirt of her dress.

“The last trains out of Shinjuku leave in about half an hour. Akira and Haru are heading out soon, as am I. I figure you’d like to get out of here ASAP, Futaba,” to which the redhead nodded immediately, “but I especially wanted to let _you_ know, Yusuke. I don’t know if you’ve seen enough and found your inspiration, but I’d prefer if it didn’t cause you to strand yourself in Shinjuku.”

The artist that stood behind the hacker fell into his **Thinking Pose** once more; the latter turned herself slightly to see him shake his head no. “Not quite, but… I suppose I, too, would rather not have it cause me to strand myself in Shinjuku. I shall accompany the rest of you out.”

The two girls nodded, the younger one quick to latch onto the arm of the elder as they moved through the crowd. The eyes that bore into the exposed skin of her back caused Futaba to press tighter to Makoto; she chalked her guesses as to who it could be up to the **Delusion** that wore off quite some time ago.

 

* * *

 

Makoto parted ways with the group at the Station Square in Shibuya, with Akira and Haru exchanging Good Nights at the door of Leblanc, leaving only Futaba, Yusuke, and Morgana together on the walk to the café owner’s house.

The feline trailed a bit behind the pair, noting just how much was being said despite the air filled with the muffled crunch of footfalls and nothing more. It was the tension in the air that spoke, palpable even to the only one not involved in whatever had produced this atmosphere. He considered addressing the odd behavior from the two most eccentric and animated members of the group, but if there was anything he learned from Akira, it was to meddle in human affairs of the heart as little as possible.

It was unbearable holding back, however, as it would have been so easy to speed this along. While he wasn’t actually sure what was going on, of course, he was sure his first guess would have been on the nose. Though Futaba’s eyes were to her bare feet, heels in hand behind her back, Yusuke’s eyes were trained on her, staring at her in the same way he looked at the _Sayuri_ whenever he swung by Leblanc for a cup of coffee: thoughtful, meticulous… full of admiration. Unfortunately, he knew the best way this would resolve itself is if the two figured it out on their own.

“U-Uhm…”

“Well…”

Both spoke at the same time as they reached the doorstep, locking eyes with each other before their gazes focused elsewhere. Futaba’s fell to her feet once again, one overlapping the other as she fidgeted with her heels; Yusuke’s turned to the sidewalk, fingers flexing as his fingertips pressed together, arms close to his chest. And just like that, a tense quiet stood between them once again.

‘ _But, sheesh… I knew I should have left with Makoto instead._ ’

**Author's Note:**

>  **you:** Kim do you seriously just write fics based on songs and how they fe--  
>  **me:** yes next question
> 
>  
> 
> [personal twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lesimperatrices)  
> 


End file.
